Corsaire
by icinks
Summary: It felt like he had been dreaming for a very long time, though he could not remember what it was he had dreamt. He did remember that he had died. Slaine Troyard had killed him. Or at least that was what was supposed to have happened.
1. Chapter 1

_"Nao, be careful. If you lose… I can't help you."_

 _._

The world spinning. Searing pain. The hard earth connecting with his back. Blood coloring his vision red.

Yet as the cold steel of a blade pierced his shoulder, pinning him to the ground in an agonizing flash, all he could think about was his sister urging him to reconsider his decision. It was a personal request more than anything, and he could still hear the tremulous undertone that accompanied the strong, commanding voice of his captain. This was no ordinary enemy. Even if it were, the results of a duel did not always reflect the true talent of the participants - there was a good bit of luck involved, as well. He knew this, and yet he had agreed to it. And now, as if by way of punishment for his foolishness, his last sight in this world would be the victorious grin of Captain Slaine Troyard, looming above him with one hand casually resting on the hilt of his sword.

Holding onto his consciousness through sheer force of will, he reached his good arm to the blade in attempt to remove it with his bare hand. But with Troyard still bearing down on it, it was a futile effort. At this little display of remaining fight, Troyard twisted the sword sharply, effectively drawing a surprised whimper from him. Inaho released his grip, fingers lacerated and bleeding, and with one last fond look at the blue sky above, where seagulls circled in the sun far above the spray of the sea, he let himself slip into oblivion.

* * *

The sound of a key turning in a lock, and iron hinges creaking as a door was swung open. It felt like he had been dreaming for a very long time, though he could not remember what it was he had dreamt. He did remember that he had died. Slaine Troyard had killed him. Or at least that was what was supposed to have happened.

Instead, he was lying flat on his back in the dark, and someone was approaching with a lantern. As he turned to look, there was a sudden stab of pain in his left eye, and he noticed for the first time that half of his world was completely black. When he reached up a hand to touch it, just to determine the extent of the damage, part of him did not want to know.

"Oh!" a young, high voice exclaimed the moment he moved, and then without any explanation disappeared with hurried footsteps.

He noted that they had left the door open, and grasping in his disoriented state that wherever he was, it was behind bars, his first thought was to somehow make it out of this cage before that person returned, and they locked him in again. Wandering in and out of sleep, precious time slipping away from him despite his efforts to stay awake and focused, he tried to calculate his chances, and the consequences should he fail. It was all too fuzzy, everything was distant, and moving seemed impossible. In the end, it didn't matter. Even when he felt his head finally begin to clear, the sleepiness drifting away and his body far less leaden, it all came to an abrupt stop when he remembered his other, more serious injury.

"You won't be able to use that arm for a while," someone said as he tried to sit up, and could not.

Troyard.

He heard the voice several seconds before the footsteps that were now nearly to him, swift and solid, yet light enough to hardly make a sound above the creaking of the ship, until they ended at his side. Luminous eyes looked down at him, and there was no discernable emotion in them. He closed his own, and shifted a bit to ease his aching, restless body to a more comfortable position on the hard wooden floor.

"Finally awake, I see," continued Troyard, not bothering to crouch down to his level, but simply standing over him.

"I'm sure you did not come all the way to the brig to state the obvious," retorted Inaho, glad that, despite the dryness in his mouth, at least he was able to speak, and that they had not gagged him. Yet.

Troyard sighed a bit, and leaned back against the bars of the cell. "Your tongue is as sharp as ever, Kaizuka," he remarked, crossing his arms, "Good. I thought perhaps I'd gone a little too far, and may have mangled you irreparably."

There was no evidence that he had not - Inaho had a very bad feeling about his eye - but the main concern was that he was not dead. "I'm more resilient than I look," he stated coolly, though in all honesty he had been sure he was a goner. "But why did you…"

"Why did I spare you?" Troyard gave a single, cynical laugh. "You're too precious a commodity to throw away that easily. Killing you was never my intent, though it would make my life easier if you were less important, and I could end you like I would anyone else."

This information was like a treacherous slap to the face, though he couldn't really be betrayed by someone he had never actually trusted. "The duel was to the death. You were supposed to kill me. This is a breach of-"

"If I was interested in following other people's rules, I wouldn't be a pirate."

That was true enough. No less from the cunning captain of the dreaded pirate vessel, Tharsis. But if they were both alive, they had unfinished business. "Then I will take that to mean that our duel is not over."

Troyard inclined his head, a hint of a smile tracing over his lips. "I look forward to fighting you again someday, but I assure you it will only end the same way. You'd best give it up and accept that you're mine now."

"Yours? What use could you possibly have for me." He had thought it over again and again, but it didn't make sense. He was the single greatest hindrance to Slaine Troyard's activities both at sea and along the coasts. The most reasonable course of action would have been to kill him.

"I can think of a lot," replied Troyard, "but the foremost is leverage. Understand that I've heard just as much about you as you've heard about me. You're quite the pride of Terra, aren't you? Though they use you so shamelessly for their own gain... I don't know how you can put up with it."

"They won't send anyone for me. I'm a quartermaster on a privateer vessel, not the admiral of a national fleet."

"Well, they may not, but they hardly concern me. Frankly, the fleets of Terra are an insult to the beauty of naval warfare."

In a way, he was right. Terra's military in general was nothing to write home about, and the only reason it had lasted this long was because of his own strategic guidance, and the miraculous peace declared by Vers a little over two years ago. During the war, Troyard had been at the forefront of royal military leadership on the side of Vers. The two of them had battled one another quite often, though they had never once met face to face back then. Now Troyard was a lowly pirate, still hell-bent on killing Terrans, and the occasional Versian to boot. Still, none of this was relevant. Troyard was taking his time explaining himself.

"Get to the point. How am I your leverage?"

"So impatient…" Troyard looked a little annoyed, but continued, "Your sister is a skilled captain, but we'll see how well she fares without you, and whether she can try to take this vessel down with the knowledge that her dear brother is aboard."

So that was it. He gritted his teeth. "She won't be so easily deterred." And he hoped that it was true.

Troyard laughed again. "You overestimate her cruelty. I've seen the way she operates. She'll stay away from this vessel until she has a plan, which will take longer without you, and by then I'll have accomplished what I need. Well, then," he straightened, and headed for the cell door, "when you've healed a bit, we'll talk at more length. For now… enjoy your rest."

Inaho closed his eyes and exhaled. Of all the mistakes he had made in his life, this was by far the worst. He had known that capture was a possibility, but given Troyard's no-survivors track record, and the prior agreement that the duel was to the death, he had felt certain that loss would mean the end. Obviously there had been a very important factor that he had missed: his relationship to Yuki, captain of the Deucalion. This case was different because he was different. Ironically, it was Yuki herself who was always telling him not to disregard the personal, emotional side of battle. Every sailor was human first and foremost, after all. He reached up his right hand, which was wrapped tightly across the palm and fingers, and touched the bandage over his eye. Any more carelessness would cost him far more. He was now completely at the mercy of the most notorious pirate of their time.


	2. Chapter 2

"Captain Troyard wishes you to dine with him."

Usually it was a girl that came, dressing his wounds and bringing him food and drink. Occasionally it was a man, perhaps in his early twenties, with dark hair and sharp eyes, who always seemed to regard him with distaste and intense suspicion. Today it was the man, and Inaho did not even need to look at his face to read the reluctance in it.

"I will not," he replied. This was the fourth night in a row that he had been summoned, and had flatly declined. There was no reason to dine with someone whose conversation would only consist of taunts, mingled with persuasions to join his crew. Yes, Troyard had expressed interest in having him as a subordinate. Inaho's mind was the true force behind the Deucalion, the foundation of their soaring success. Of course Troyard would want it. Together, they could be unstoppable.

The man seemed even less pleased than usual, and instead of leaving as he had the previous times, he crouched down to unlock the shackles at Inaho's feet. "It was not a request," he stated tersely. "Tonight I am to bring you regardless."

There was a brief pause, during which both seemed to be measuring up the other and determining whether a physical fight would be in their favor. Perhaps if he had been in better health he might have won against this person, who was at least two hands taller and broader than him, but he had not yet adapted to his new limitations. He let out a short breath and nodded acceptance.

* * *

"It's not very polite to force your guests to dine with you," he said as he entered the cabin and saw Troyard sitting at the head of a long table. He noted that it was not loaded with opulent food, as he had anticipated, but rather only three small dishes with relatively simple fare.

"Guest? Is that what you fancy yourself?" said Troyard. He rose from his chair and approached. "Thank you, Harklight. That will be all."

The man dipped his head respectfully and departed, closing the door behind him. Troyard proceeded to lock it, and then stowed the key somewhere on his person. "Have a seat," he gestured to the chair adjacent to his own, and Inaho took it. Before following suit, Troyard sat on the edge of the table beside Inaho's plate and drew a different key out of his coat pocket. "Give me your hands." Inaho complied, and in a few swift movements the cuffs on his wrists were removed. Troyard tossed them in a drawer and then returned to his place at the table. "Is that better?" he asked, before reaching for the wine, and pouring them each a glass.

Inaho rubbed his wrists. A week of rough iron against bare skin was not particularly pleasant, and there were a few places that had begun to bleed just a little. Seeing as Troyard was the one who had put them on him in the first place, as soon as he had shown signs of being able to move about again, this sudden concern for his comfort was laughable. "You trust me?" he asked instead, though it was more of an offhanded comment. If it wasn't trust, it was confidence.

"Not in the slightest," replied Troyard. He delicately picked up a silver knife and leaned forward to carve the meat, the ruffled sleeve of his white shirt brushing the tablecloth.

So it was confidence, after all. As Troyard served the food, Inaho took the opportunity to observe his surroundings. The room was relatively dark, save for the candles burning on the table and hanging in two lanterns from the wooden beams of the ceiling. Overall, it was sparsely decorated. Hardly the luxury he would expect of someone who looted for a living. There was only a silver mirror above a small side table, which bore a box of spirits and a miniature model of a ship, and a few dark blue curtains at the far wall, perhaps obscuring the door to the captain's quarters.

"All the doors are locked," said Troyard, noting his searching eye. "Not that you'd be foolish enough to make a run for it now, when we're so far out at sea."

"Then why lock the doors…" he muttered.

"For the safety of my crew. If I allowed you to roam about, there's no telling what you'd do."

"Nothing you wouldn't, I'd wager," he returned. He had heard a great deal about Troyard's ruthless treatment of his own crew.

Troyard looked at him for a long minute, and then shook his head lightly. "Honestly, what exactly do you people think I am?"

"The list is quite long." Nearly every port in Terra had something to say about the pirate Slaine Troyard, though in truth much of it seemed rather far-fetched.

"Hmm?" Troyard hummed with new interest.

Seeing that he was meant to elaborate, Inaho continued. "Most commonly believed is that you leave no survivors. Which, obviously, is false."

"Though not _too_ far from the mark," Troyard admitted with a smile.

"Some say that in a fight, you have a tendency to strike for the eyes. That, apparently, is true."

Troyard raised an eyebrow. "You knew, and yet you still failed to prevent it? Somehow I feel a little disappointed now, Kaizuka."

Ignoring the comment, Inaho continued, "You string up, or throw overboard, or otherwise kill one from your own crew once a month, just to remind the others to fear you."

"How barbaric. I would never," he swore with genuine disgust, "But these don't sound all that impressive. You could be describing any number of Versian captains."

"If you prefer the more wild delusions, some say you were raised by demons."

Troyard coughed, choking a little on his drink. "Ha ha! More or less correct."

"Others believe you can see the future."

"If that were true, the world would be much different, I assure you."

"And, of course, the popular belief that you eat the people you kill."

"Hoooh? Really? How exciting," Troyard leaned to one side, his elbow propped on the chair and his cheek resting against his fingers, "And what do you believe?"

Without looking up, Inaho skewered a potato with his fork. "I have yet to reach a conclusion."

"Then I'm surprised you don't suspect me of poisoning you," Troyard declared as Inaho freely ate what he had been served.

Inaho glanced up at him. "You have made it abundantly clear that you have no intention of killing me at the moment. And you've already been drugging me, so there's nothing out of the ordinary about this food, except perhaps that it is slightly more palatable than what I've been given here thus far."

Paying no heed the blatant insult to the quality of his ship's dining, Troyard looked at him with eyebrows raised. "You don't like the sensation? I've never in my life heard someone complain about the effects of laudanum, but if you would prefer to be in agony, I can withhold it. It's a surprisingly difficult tincture for me to procure, and I would prefer to conserve my supplies."

It all sounded reasonable, but he was familiar enough with the substance from treatment of past injuries to know that his current dosage was far too high, or that the preparation was somehow altered with additional ingredients. Clearly they were using it as a sedative, probably to keep him docile as long as possible, but they would make an addict of him if they didn't go easy on it soon. As if they cared if he was in pain.

"I would prefer that," he answered slowly, weighing the possible ulterior motives but coming up with none. Ideally, he would get just enough to take the edge off, but he would rather die than ask this person for such a favor. He would not play Troyard's games.

"Then you'd better hope you've healed as much as you seem to think," said Troyard.

For the remainder of the meal, neither spoke a word. And then, folding his napkin and placing it beside his plate, Troyard set his elbows on the table, his chin resting in his palms, and viewed him with a sort of intrigue. Inaho fixed his attention on his plate. He was oddly uncomfortable with those eyes watching him, especially since he was struggling to eat with one hand.

"I have asked you before," began Troyard the moment Inaho finished his meal, "and I am sure you have not changed your mind, but I will ask it again. Will you join my crew?"

"And why would I do that, exactly…"

Troyard did not answer immediately. He eased back in his chair, his arms sprawling out at will on the wooden armrests. After looking at Inaho for a moment, he let his head fall forward with a weary sigh.

"I believe you'll understand that easily enough after you've spent more time here and seen what it is that we do. As much as I'd love to slit your throat for everything you've done to thwart and destroy and take from me," his tone was quiet and even, "I can't deny that you have a skill set beyond anything I've ever seen, and that it would be to my benefit to make use of it."

"And if I refuse?"

Troyard frowned, his eyes narrowing a fraction. "Then you're useless cargo. I cannot allow you to get in my way again, so you can rot in that cell until I have no further need of you, and then I'll kill you and feed your corpse to the fish."


	3. Chapter 3

They were near land again. Inaho could tell by the rock of the ship and the very distant sound of gulls screeching overhead, along with the change in the routine of footsteps pounding just above him. Another week had passed, by his reckoning, and nearly every evening he had dined with Troyard, who after the first night had not once brought up the subject of Inaho joining his crew. Instead, he had chattered on about the latest developments in medicine, or a new species of flightless bird discovered on some island, or the astonishingly high price of chickens in Versian ports. It was all irrelevant, and yet Inaho found himself engaging in these bizarre conversations on occasion in spite of himself. Whenever he spoke, inevitably Troyard would listen with rapt interest, and Inaho could not fathom what on earth he could want with such trifling information. When Troyard was not talking or eating, which was perhaps the majority of the time, for he ate very little and seemed quiet by nature, he simply leaned on the table, wine dangling languidly at his fingertips, and watched Inaho as though trying to see right into his mind. Inaho was grateful that at least this much privacy would always be afforded him, and that Troyard could not, through any amount of staring, ascertain the plan he was constructing to escape. He was confident that his own expressions did not, and would never, betray what lay beneath.

At last, it was time to act. It didn't matter what kind of land it was - even if it was a deserted island, it would be better than staying where he was, locked in a cage and made to go along with Troyard's whims, only to be used against his own sister and then killed in the end. He had waited patiently until the right moment to free himself. As expected, the usual girl appeared to escort him to dinner, keys jangling from a large iron hoop threaded over her arm. His plan was to make his move on the way back from dinner, before she could lock him up again. There was less activity above at that time, and he would be free from his cell without Troyard awaiting his arrival.

But he knew that Troyard was not an idiot. He would have calculated for all of this. The only reason this plan might succeed was _because_ Troyard had also thought of it, and would likely have believed it too overt and rudimentary a strategy for someone like Inaho Kaizuka to attempt. From what he had gleaned thus far from Troyard, it seemed that he always thought ahead, carefully considering each possible outcome and acting to prevent the most likely to occur. Perhaps this was where the rumor of his ability to see the future had originated, though it was nothing supernatural, it was simply an uncanny foresight and solid instincts. The only way anything might work, would be if Inaho tried something so obvious that Troyard had likely given it little attention, and would be ill prepared to properly respond. In the end, there was a low chance of success, but he had already accepted the consequences of failure.

That had been his plan when he entered the dining cabin and took his usual seat. But as the meal progressed, a new opportunity presented itself, and he was very quickly deciding to act on it. Something was different with Troyard tonight. He seemed in low spirits, and had finished off several glasses of wine when suddenly he leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, as though forgetting Inaho's presence completely. As Troyard's chin dropped forward onto his cravat, and his arms fell limp at his sides, Inaho did not waste a second. He immediately scanned the table for the most suitable weapon. The carving knife would do.

In this cabin, he was completely free to move about, with nothing binding his hands or feet. He had little to lose should he fail - death awaited him anyway if he did nothing at all. And so, after he was certain that Troyard had fallen asleep, he quietly plucked the knife from the cloth and rose from his seat. It was a good thing his shoes had been taken from him upon his capture, for it made it all the easier to approach stealthily now. He gazed down at the slumped figure and raised the knife. It was the perfect opportunity. Everything had finally aligned in his favor. Yet just when finally he could be rid of this person and free himself, he hesitated. It was only a second, but it was long enough. A hand grasped his wrist, and he found himself staring into a pair of sea-green eyes.

"You've become so predictably reckless, Kaizuka," said Troyard, an odd, desperate strain in his voice, "Didn't I tell you I don't trust you?" Inaho followed his gaze to the pistol that was now pressed to his stomach. With a low hiss, Troyard released Inaho's arm and snatched the knife. He stood up quickly, sending Inaho stumbling backwards, and stabbed the blade into the wood of the table at Inaho's side. One of the wine glasses tipped, staining the cloth red.

"I'm really… not in the mood for mutiny tonight…" Troyard paused, a pained, melancholy smile wavering at his lips. "Is that not obvious to you?"

It was. Though his appearance was as neat and collected as ever, save for continually unruly hair, emotions were showing through like shadows behind a curtain, a flicker of anger, then lingering heartache and the weight of weariness.

"I should have you flogged, Kaizuka," said Troyard, "But even though you would murder me in my sleep, since it is the day of her peace I will grant you clemency this once."

Her peace? Inaho thought for a moment, trying to recall the general date. Ah, yes. It must be around that time by now. The third anniversary of the declaration of peace between the nations. It seemed bizarre that Troyard of all people would honor it, as he was perhaps its greatest enemy. Granted, he did not seem particularly happy about it. It was likely why he was pouring himself another glass of wine.

Troyard sank back into his chair. "Well, Kaizuka. If you can't eat a meal without becoming violent, then you'll simply go without. Your punishment will be no food or drink for three days. Consider yourself fortunate."

* * *

Inaho leaned against the wall of his cell, wishing he had emptied his glass before making that attempt. Yet, Troyard was right - it was lenient, especially considering that the penalty for mutiny even on the Deucalion was a minimum of thirty-nine lashes, if not death by hanging. And that was for those who belonged to the ship. For a prisoner, anything went, really. Not that pirates necessarily followed the usual rules at sea. In any case, he had expected something like this. He had made a decent attempt, and had failed through his own fault.

Hours passed. He lay on his back, staring up at the beams that constituted part of his prison. The wood was surprisingly smooth and clean. In fact, considering he was in the hold of the ship, a place where rats often gathered in the dark amongst cargo and filth, everything was exceptionally pristine. Troyard did not allow his crew to laze about, that was for sure. Two knots… three odd-shaped rings… the small, round head of a nail, slightly bent. He traced them visually, he counted them, he imagined things moving in their shapes. Anything to get his mind off of his body. It didn't work. Not really. But he continued anyway, for there was nothing else to do except for think - about the Deucalion, about how how hungry he was, about the constant throbbing pain in his shoulder, about what he would be willing to do for a single drop of water - and that made him feel far worse. His attention wandered to the large barrels that were lined up against the wall, a mere stone's throw away. They were filled with clean, delicious water, each and every one of them. The smaller barrels in the corner, nearly out of sight, likely contained grog that, while normally was not quite to his taste, at this point he would be willing to drink by the flagon. The first day passed slowly, but without any visitors bringing meals to him he could not be sure what time it was or how many hours had passed, except from what he could hear above him.

Another change of the watch. It must be dawn, though it was just as dark where he was. No one had come to put oil in the lantern, either, and for several hours he could see nothing at all. He rolled onto his side. Even the sloshing, putrid water of the nearby bilge sounded appealing. Someone was manning the pump, and the thought crossed his mind to ask them for something to drink. No… better not. Even if the person was kind enough to help him, which was unlikely, it would certainly be found out, and he would be the worse for it. The remaining time he did not remember well. He slept through much of it, which was both a blessing in the oblivion it provided and the cause of some anxiety, for several times he wondered whether he would wake up again if he let himself close his eyes. At long last, the one who eventually came was none other than Troyard himself.

A large tin cup in his hand, he kneeled down beside Inaho. "Can you sit up?" he inquired, quietly and with no obvious malice.

Inaho looked at him suspiciously, but finding his pride had vanished in the wake of his circumstances, he shook his head weakly and accepted whatever aid he could get. Troyard slipped an arm behind his shoulders and lifted him up slightly, before putting the cup to his lips. At first he could hardly swallow it, his mouth and throat were so dry, but soon he was drinking it in gulps, until suddenly it was pulled away from him. He tried to reach out for it, but his hand fell uselessly back to his side.

"Not so fast, you'll vomit," warned Troyard. It was too late. Inaho could already feel his stomach rejecting what little he had put in it, and a moment later it all came back out onto the floor. Troyard sighed a bit. "What did I tell you?"

It seemed like an eternity before he was allowed more, and this time he was able to keep it down. "Why.. are you.." he murmured.

Troyard looked down at him. "I will not allow you to die yet. I still need you."

 _Yes, but why you, personally?"_ Inaho wondered, but before he could inquire any further, he suddenly found himself exceedingly tired. It was not long before he drifted to sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

Inaho watched the lantern sway back and forth, it's light playing patterns on the walls of the hold. Above him feet hurried to and fro in hushed urgency. Despite the lack of voices, he could hear the metallic sound of weapons and determined that they must undergoing some kind of battle preparations. So Troyard was initiating his plan after all, whatever it was. For once, Inaho wished that he could participate. Normally the idea of having to think and give orders and watch all that went on down to the minutest detail, assessing and reassessing the plan of action, and then accordingly making adjustments whilst doing his own share of fighting, was tiresome at best. He only did it because there were people he wanted to protect. People who refused to live quietly at home and let others do the fighting. Three weeks ago he would gladly have sat on the floor, as he now did every day, idling away his life amongst cargo at the bottom of this ship, but after his failed attempt at escape and the miserable days that followed, he had steadily felt better and grown stronger, until he suddenly became acutely aware of how boring this was. Dining with Troyard was the only interesting part of his days, though the more time he spent in that man's presence, the less he understood him. Was he cruel? Was he kind? What was he trying to accomplish, really? Inaho hated to admit it, but whatever his true nature, Slaine Troyard was fascinating.

Eventually there was silence from above, and he wondered what kind of battle could be so quiet. Perhaps a stealth mission of some kind. Hours melted away, and he fell asleep to the steady rhythm of the bilge pump, accompanied by the tuneless humming of its operator.

"Come, get up." Someone nudged him with their foot, and he found himself looking up at Troyard. The pirate captain was covered in blood, sweat, and grime, his wispy blonde hair dusted thickly with what appeared to be soot. While his coat was torn in several places, his body was somehow unscathed. "I want to show you something," he added brusquely.

The fetters at Inaho's ankles were quickly unlocked, and he sat up, hauling himself to his feet and following wordlessly to wherever it was that Troyard was taking him. He hoped that it was not that his sister had finally made a move. As much as he would love to see her face again, he was more afraid of what would happen to her and the Deucalion in a direct confrontation with Troyard. After much walking and climbing, they made it to the deck above. It had been weeks since he last breathed fresh air, and the cool sea breeze, gentle under the waning moon, felt heavenly on his face. His enjoyment was cut short by the loud, echoing bang of an explosion, and he turned towards its source. Off the starboard side in the distance were at least a dozen ships in flames. The harbor was red with the reflection of a roaring blaze and the thickness of its smoke nearly blotted out the stars above.

"Is that…"

"Terra's most prized vessels. You've heard of fireships, and their general purpose, I presume?" Troyard leaned against the deck rail, and Inaho briefly considered shoving him overboard.

"Of course."

The idea was to set a ship on fire and then send it into the middle of an enemy fleet in order to either cause disorder or, as in this case, spread the flames to the other ships. Normally it was a difficult strategy to pull off, both because one had to first obtain a vessel to set on fire, and because the wind needed to be right for the ship to drift properly and quickly enough. Otherwise, someone would have to remain on it in order to steer it. By the looks of it, Troyard had stayed aboard that mass of fire for a decent amount of time before bailing to safety. Captains did not normally take on such a dangerous mission. It was insane.

"Before I set fire to their flagship," Troyard continued, "I took the liberty of removing this from the commodore's personal writing desk." He drew an envelope from his coat pocket. "Feel free to have a look."

One glance at the insignia on the seal confirmed that it was an official commission from the Terran government. Opening it quickly, he scanned over the contents of the letter. Most of it was the usual gibberish, meaningless words meant to impress, but one portion caught his attention.

" _...once the privateer Deucalion has engaged the pirate vessel Tharsis, immediately pursue the Allusia and sink her."_

"In other words," began Troyard, watching him fold the paper and slide it back into its envelope, "they planned to use you to keep me out of their way while they assassinate the Empress. Right now, she is about to set out on her return voyage from the peace celebrations in Terra. No doubt they also intend to blame it on me, or if it is convenient, you. And not just the Empress, but her sister, also. The entire remaining royal lineage in one go, so that Vers would be thrown into divided chaos and easily subdued. Now do you see it? Peace between Vers and Terra never existed."

"Are you saying that the only reason it appears that way is because, for the past three years, you have been stopping things like this...?" Inaho joined him at the deck rail, chains clinking against the smooth wood as he leaned against it. "If you are loyal to the Empress, why did you not become a privateer in her service?" he asked. Privateering was the logical choice for someone wishing to serve the realm on their own terms. They were the mercenaries of the sea.

Troyard shook his head. "Unlike you, I have no use for letters of marque. They are restrictive, and I require the freedom to act as I see fit, even if it means sinking Versian vessels as well. She has far more enemies under her nose than she realizes, so it is best if I am not associated with any government. Besides," he added with a dismal smile, "I was exiled."

It was an odd way of serving someone, yet somehow Inaho understood. He stared out at the glistening water, the blaze growing ever smaller on the horizon as they vanished into the night. This was a lot to process. Yet he could hardly refute what he had seen with his own eyes. The seal and signature could not have been easily forged, and though Troyard might have been able to pull it off, there would be no reason to go to such lengths to deceive him about something like this. There were easier ways, surely.

After another hour or so on deck, eventually Inaho was brought below once more. However, rather than back to the hold, Troyard led him to a small room.

"There is no longer reason to keep you in the hold," explained Troyard, "For now, my acting second in command does not wish to assume the position permanently, and has refused the accommodations that accompany it. Please make yourself comfortable. The room is yours to keep, if you will accept the position."

Inaho turned to him, wondering what exactly this sudden change in treatment meant. "Do you still plan to kill me if I refuse it?"

Troyard grinned at him. "Of course," he answered, and then departed, locking the door behind him.

* * *

"Interesting names," Inaho remarked as he peered at miniature wooden ships set like chess pieces on a map, which was spread out over a table. Troyard had allowed him into his personal quarters to select reading material to pass the time, and he couldn't help but cast a glance about the room.

"I find them easier to recall," Troyard explained, "Besides, I doubt the word Deucalion would have fit on the model."

Inaho leaned down to look at one in particular, at the edge of the map. "Hell?"

"Helle… Hellis?" Troyard attempted to remember, and then waved a hand dismissively, "It was too long."

"You mean Hellas? It's not that long... also, I thought I sunk her ages ago."

Troyard looked at him incredulously. " _You_ sunk her? Aren't you forgetting something?" Met with silence, he continued, "Anyhow, this here is a different ship, built by Countess Femieanne's daughter. The number two wouldn't fit, either."

The four letters did take up the whole space, but only because the capital 'h' was disproportionately large, and the swooping tail of the the 'e', ridiculously long for its position at the middle of the word, occupied any remaining room.

"It's because your penmanship is too sprawling…" Inaho muttered, trying not to let his amusement show.

"Pardon?" Troyard looked at him, expression on the verge of offense.

Inaho pretended not to hear. Instead he focused his attention on the books. "Isn't it a bit careless of you to allow me in here? I have a very good memory."

"I'm well aware that you could replicate that map three years from now with perfect accuracy, but this knowledge will be obsolete in a week or so. In any case, dead men don't talk. Whatever you see in here - it really won't matter when you're lying on the ocean floor."

" _When?_ " Inaho glanced over his shoulder at Troyard, who had wandered over to stand just behind him.

"You show no signs of being convinced, even after all I've revealed to you. It's… a shame, really," Troyard added, almost wistfully. And for a single, fleeting moment, there was a forlorn look in his eyes.

Inaho turned back to the books, and traced a finger over their spines. "Don't be so eager to murder me," he said coolly, "As I told you once before, I have yet to reach a conclusion." There was silence. When a minute or so had passed, he thought that Troyard must have left the room and turned to see if he was still there. He was, and Inaho found himself face-to-face with the pirate. "Th-though," he faltered, slightly startled and taking a step back, "I… must say that your treatment of me has hardly been favorable to your cause."

Troyard raised his eyebrows with a dubious smile, "You don't leave me much choice. Would you have listened any other way?"

He had a point. Most people did not take kindly to being assaulted at dinner, whoever they might be. And not long ago, given the chance, Inaho would have killed Troyard before the man could open his mouth. "No," Inaho replied, "But I don't believe that would make much difference. You do hate me, do you not?"

Troyard gave a cynical laugh and dropped into a chair. "As much as I enjoy plaguing you, it would make for a poor partnership if I were to hate my closest subordinate. Still, I cannot say that I like you."

So he did enjoy it, the sadistic fiend. Yet here he was, showing Inaho his literary collection like and old friend. More contradictions. Troyard made less sense by the minute.

"You would have someone you dislike working alongside you?"

Clear marine eyes angled up at him from under a shroud of thick lashes. "It is far easier to work with someone you don't trust, believe me. At least when they turn on you, you're prepared for it."

"Even if they've tried to kill you multiple times in the past?" Supposing he did accept Troyard's request, he found it hard to imagine how they would even work together, when they had only ever fought.

"Kaizuka," the name lingered, and Troyard twisted a few strands of hair thoughtfully between his thumb and forefinger, "I know that you are not a man opposed to exploiting others, so I believe on this point we can understand one another. If a person is useful, whether friend or foe, it is a waste not to use them. It is as simple as that."

Fittingly, Inaho had just drawn a copy of Machiavelli's "Il Principe" from the shelf. He ran his thumb over the stamped cloth cover.

"Fair enough."


	5. Chapter 5

Inaho woke to canonfire. It was only one shot - likely a warning or a signal, and too distant to be from the Tharsis. He sat up and tried to look out from his small porthole, but he could see nothing aside from the endless expanse of ocean. The sun had just begun to peek over the horizon. Resigned to sit out whatever this was, as he had the last time, he lay down on his bed. It was nice, finally getting to sleep in a proper bed again, with a blanket and nothing rough around his ankles or wrists. He dozed, having nothing in particular to do, and only roused again at the sound of a knock on his door and a key in the lock. The usual girl entered as he sat up.

"The Captain has requested your presence on deck," she said shortly. Inaho nodded, and after she had secured his wrists, he followed after her. "The Captain seems to think you are a worthwhile effort," she said with a small, dignified sigh as they walked, "Please do not disappoint him."

A 'worthwhile effort'? Inaho thought about what he had been told the other night, and read with his own eyes. Perhaps…

He squinted in the sudden light as they climbed up onto the main deck. As expected, Troyard was there, standing in the sun, boots squarely on the deck, and arms relaxed at his sides. Burgundy coattails fluttered in the breeze. He was wearing his hat for once, something that only seemed to appear on his head when there was someone he wished to intimidate, though there was nothing particularly menacing about it aside from the alarming dimensions of its plume. Inaho found a petty satisfaction in seeing that the small chunk he had once clipped from it with a bullet still remained visible, though at the same time it reminded him of how narrowly he had missed his target that day. It had been several years since then.

But more importantly, the Deucalion was also there, just across the water. The two ships were within speaking distance, and it was obvious that that was exactly what they intended to do. It seemed that they had been awaiting his arrival.

"Kaizuka!" called the Deucalion's captain the moment he appeared. The formal address exuded sisterly concern, and he could see her hands grip the rail as she sought to maintain composure.

"As you can see," said Troyard in a clear, loud voice, taking hold of the link between Inaho's cuffs and, with a firm yank, sending him stumbling forward by it, "Inaho Kaizuka is alive and well. I cannot promise that this will still be the case if you open fire on us. However," he paused, closed his eyes, and exhaled, "I will return him to you, on one condition. You will not attack or otherwise hinder the Tharsis or anyone aboard her until three weeks have passed from today."

Inaho looked back over his shoulder in surprise. Troyard was modifying things at the last minute - he should have anticipated that something might change, but he had somehow gotten too comfortable lately. Perhaps even that was part of Troyard's plan; he could never be sure what the pirate was up to. Three weeks… it must be to give Troyard time to ensure the Allusia's safe passage home, in the event that Terra launched any secondary operations against her. Right now, it was impossible to determine whether his sister had received any orders to abort the mission, but Troyard was probably right. There was a distinct possibility that the Empress was still in danger, though it would be an ill-advised move for Terra to revive a war without its best ships.

Now by offering to return Inaho, Troyard was taking more extreme measures to buy time, or he was expressing some kind of trust. It was a more risky arrangement than simply using Inaho as a shield, that was certain, but at the same time it was an effective means of getting the Deucalion out of the picture entirely for a short time. That is, if Captain Yuki Kaizuka was willing to bargain.

At the moment, she seemed less than pleased with his terms. "You think we will simply allow you to do as you please for nearly a month?" she shot back at him.

Troyard's head tilted forward slightly and his expression darkened. "I do. You will accept my terms-" he paused and reached under his coat to retrieve a pistol. Pressing it to Inaho's left temple, he gazed back across the water at the Deucalion, "-or I'll kill him. What will it be, Captain Kaizuka? Are Terra's orders worth your brother's life?"

Seconds dragged on in tense silence. His sister had frozen, almost as though she feared if she moved even to speak, Troyard would pull the trigger. As expert a leader as she was, the single crack in her defenses had been discovered and was now being forcibly pried open. Inaho gritted his teeth. He would not watch this any longer. With a calmness that even he did not expect, he reached up and boldly shoved the gun away. Troyard looked so caught off guard that Inaho thought for a moment that he would be shot simply for his impudence. At the same time Yuki's hand had flown to her mouth and she looked nearly ready to leap over the water to him. But as he began to assess the situation with more clarity, he realized that Troyard would not shoot him. It wasn't so much a strategic reasoning as it was a gut feeling.

"Your methods are horrible," he muttered crossly, for he understood Troyard's motive despite everything and it irritated him that things were not as clear-cut as they used to be. "Let me speak with her."

Troyard stared at him for a long minute, and then lowered the gun. "One of these days you're going to get yourself killed," he grumbled.

"But not by you."

Troyard clicked his tongue in annoyance. "Don't test me, Kaizuka. What exactly do you plan to say to her?"

"Listen for yourself."

As Inaho urged his sister to comply with Troyard's terms, he wondered how self-serving his counsel must sound to her. But the more he thought about it, the more sure he was of Troyard's sincerity, at least in regards to this matter. His actions, his words, his past - though there were parts that were contradictory, overall it added up. And most of all, he felt instinctively that Troyard was right. Now it all rested on how well he could convince Yuki in this less than ideal setting. It would be better if he could discuss it with her privately, but that simply was not possible at the moment. More often than not, she would listen to him, but there had been times when she had disregarded him completely. And so the wait as she considered his words was painfully uncertain. His primary hope was in her trust, for there was no other reason for her to do as he asked, unless she was already prepared to sacrifice everything for him.

At long last she spoke. "Three weeks, Troyard. Not a day longer."

To Inaho's surprise, someone was immediately sent to fetch the things that had been taken from him upon his capture. Troyard had a boat prepared to return him to the Deucalion.

"If you change your mind…" he said quietly as he freed Inaho's wrists. "I still want you."

Inaho glanced up at him. "You are perfectly capable on your own, Troyard," he said, rubbing his wrists, "Together we would only slow one other down - it's better if we operate separately."

"Do you intend to turn the Deucalion to piracy, then?" Troyard asked, eyebrows raised. He deposited Inaho's things into his arms.

"No. It's better that they remain under the protection of the realm. I will be leaving the Deucalion."

"Then you do plan to return here..."

"Didn't I just say it would be better if we worked apart?" reminded Inaho as he pulled on his hat, "I have a friend who builds ships. There is something of mine he's been keeping safe for me."

Troyard's eyes widened. "... the Sleipnir?!"

"Yes," Inaho confirmed with a nod. "However, given the circumstances, there isn't time for me to outfit a vessel. You'll need some assistance before then - you won't be able to pull the same trick twice, especially not on the open sea. The Deucalion will back you. Please do not wipe out the fleet this time, the enlisted are not to blame. We will simply send them home."

Troyard stared at him, his mouth opening and closing several times before he appeared to collect himself and drew his lips into a thoughtful frown. His eyebrows knit contemplatively as he considered Inaho's words. "Sending them home... they'll talk... you... intend to take the fall for the Deucalion."

"I do." If Troyard was correct, this was the right course of action. He did not particularly relish the idea of taking up leadership again, but if peace and lives were at stake, he could hardly sit back and watch from the comfort of his cabin. It would take some work to convince Yuki, but he was confident he could persuade her to his line of thought. She would not like it, though.

As he climbed down into the boat that was to take him back to the Deucalion, he looked up at Troyard. "You said that it's better to work alongside people you don't trust, but you already have two very trustworthy comrades at your side. They won't betray you."

Troyard's expression softened a little, but he said nothing.

"Also, I have one question," Inaho added. He sat down on the bench as they prepared to lower the boat. "What do you do with all the spoils? Do you destroy them? It is obvious that you don't keep them for yourself." The query had been burning in his mind for some time.

"Are you saying my ship is shabby?" replied Troyard with a wry smile, "Yes, sometimes I burn them, but only if it's unavoidable. Usually, I give them away. Many citizens of Vers are starving."

Ah, so that was it. It was a reassuring answer. "Farewell, Troyard," he called to the Tharsis' captain as the boat began to lower.

Troyard smiled briefly. "Goodbye, Kaizuka."

* * *

Inaho collapsed onto his bed. Finally, his own bed. After briefly greeting his comrades and seeing the ship's surgeon, he had gone straight to his cabin to rest and collect himself. As he had feared, his left eye would not see again. The surgeon wished to remove it, as it would only cause pain and future complications intact, but Inaho had decided to put it off for a little while at least. A patch would cover it for now. He needed to be functional for the next few weeks. Grateful that his shoulder was healing well, he closed his eyes and pulled the blanket over himself.

Something fell onto the floor. It was a metal sound, like a coin or key. He peered over the edge of his bed to see what it was, and if it was anything important. There on the smooth wood floor was a round, silver pendant attached to a fine chain. A blue cross was inlaid with the design of its surface. This was…

"Troyard…" he muttered, picking it up and turning it over in the palm of his hand.

He ran a thumb over the smooth back. It had been so long since he had seen this trinket, he had completely forgotten that he possessed it. At some point in the past, years ago, he had acquired it quite by accident, through some series of events. What the pendant was doing under his pillow, he could not recall, but he thought it must have to do with the fact that the last time he had slept in this bed was the night before the duel. Whatever the case, it mattered little now. He looked around for somewhere safe to stow it in case he decided to return it at some point, or perhaps use it as a bargaining chip if ever the need arose. This amulet was probably important to him. Inaho opened a drawer to deposit it in an envelope, but he found himself hesitating. He stared at it, and tilted the envelope a few times to watch it slide and turn and shine, and then he took it out again and clasped it around his neck. The silver was cool against his chest where he tucked it under his shirt. At last, exhausted, he blew out his lamp and crawled back into bed.

 _"Until we meet again, Slaine Troyard."_

* * *

 **a/n:** I hope you've enjoyed this story! I had fun writing it - it's quite different in characterization from my other fics of these two, it was a nice change of pace. Anyway, thanks for reading! ^^


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